


Rieducare

by gadaursan



Series: Heroic Clam Squad [4]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, Gen, Organized Crime, in which i upset everyone by hacking khr canon to pieces and only keep the parts i liked about it, not really murder mystery bc we all know it's the villain of the week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 07:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17741540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gadaursan/pseuds/gadaursan
Summary: A homicide wouldn't have gotten so much scrutiny for both the police and the Pro Hero community. But this one was an exception, because the victim wasn't just anyone, but a Pro Hero, and worse, one of the Vongola. And the reports of the Vongola's top brass flying in to Japan to address the case were not calming anyone's nerves.





	Rieducare

**Author's Note:**

> At first I was just writing a couple oneshots, but it's time to get serious. For those who are totally new, this is my shoddy attempt at integrating our favorite flame mafia into the world of BNHA with the concept that Tsuna "destroys" Vongola by turning them into a Pro Hero organization. Because this is a fusion sort of crossover, this means, that a lot of things will be retconned or rewritten on Reborn's end of things. I'll probably put more in the footnotes later on.

The last thing Awata wanted to end her weekend with was a heart attack. She had stayed over at a friend's place and would come home late where no one could possibly be home or awake in her complex. So naturally, she was not expecting to find a man standing by her window, armed with only a pair of tonfas, and two people lying before him. In all the cases she's worked on, she knew immediately that this man was dangerous, and getting out of this on her own was unlikely.

"What are you doing here?" Awata acted on instinct and pulled up the sleeve of her jacket, fully ready to get a few bubbles in before she could restrain him. It was likely a futile move, she knew, but she couldn't simply stand back. That would be insulting her alias, Bubble Girl.

"You small creature," the man didn't even bother to raising his tonfas in response. "Don't presume your Quirk will distract me from fighting back."

She eyed him from head to toe, noting his purple trim of his suit. Then it clearly connected together, where this man had come from. The files she and Centipeder had went over the week ago had mention of a man fitting his description.

"Explain yourself, Vongola," she only said back at him, and the man still didn't move or appear surprised. So he didn't care about the likely secret nature of this… mess.

The man motioned to the bodies on the ground. "Had I been a second later, you would have been as dead as these… herbivores."

Awata refused to back down from the threat, and turned her attention to the two forms lying on the ground. They were clad in dark colors and she spotted the climbing equipment strapped to their prone bodies. She made quick note of the long, absurdly sharp nails both of them possessed, assuming this was their Quirk (and they were likely siblings, too). The most unnerving part of them was their blank, distant stares.

"They're… dead?" She was not about to touch them at the moment, and she shot the man an accusing glare.

"They killed themselves as soon as they realized there was no chance of escaping me," he simply said. Awata relented, and looked back at the corpses, noticing the telltale signs of self-administered poisoning from their mouths to the sickly color of their nails.

Without warning, the man advanced towards her, prompting her to raise her hands more defensively. She knew that this man likely had a Pro Hero license on him, but license or not, this was Vongola, this was…

He walked past her, not even giving her presence much thought, and entered the front of the apartment and stopped. Awata watched him warily as he seemed to wait in the narrow hallway for a sign. He then found his answer with the broom closet and wrested it open.

Just as the door swung open, a distinctly large heap of clothes tumbled out onto the floor, but the sound the heap made when it hit the ground indicated that there was more than just clothes that was stuffed into the closet. The man in purple gave a hard kick to turn the heap over, and Awata saw the telltale sign of a bundle of hair, then a deathly pale face. She held a hand to her mouth and forced the bile that was threatening to rise in her throat.

"Hm," The man sounded slightly disappointed, but Awata could feel the murderous intent flaring from him. "This is where they put you."

"Another one?" She gasped.

"This one was not an assassin," The man corrected her. "He was one of mine. He's been watching over the floor of this complex to make sure incidents such as this… don't happen."

Before Awata could protest about respecting the privacy of her home and other Pro Heroes, he began to tear at the clothes the corpse was wrapped in. What they found was a gaping wound, and Awata took in every detail of the injuries.

"Only a few hours ago," she spoke her assumptions a bit too easily, but she couldn't help it. She had to stay professional and not start having a breakdown. That was for later when this man left and the police were alerted. Sir Nighteye didn't teach her to behave so weakly at the sign of a soonest shock.

The man left the body alone, then headed out the window without a word.

"Hey!" Awata spoke up, but the man didn't stop. "Where are you going? What about-"

"The police will be headed your way in a minute," He cut through her words, and on the way out, he reached into his pocket and procured a black card that he left on the bedside table. "Once you submit your statement, I expect to receive all of Sir Nighteye's cases within the next five days."

And with that, he took a casual step off the edge of the balcony and was gone, and all the bravery Awata had in her sapped away as she slumped back against the wall. A part of her mind was already racing ahead, thinking of where she was going to stay while this blew over, yet the other part of her wanted to just curl up and start sobbing her heart out. For all the safety she thought her apartment granted her off duty, even the walls of her home failed her. She buried her face in her hands and took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to ignore the corpses that still remained in her room.

Only a few minutes, she kept telling herself, and until then, she wouldn't cry.

She fumbled through her purse and went for the first few contacts on her work phone. It didn't take less than a few seconds for him to pick up.

"Juu… Juuso?" She spoke into the receiver, unable to control the shakiness in her voice. "Are you there…?"

-oOo-

Midoriya was a child of so many questions, as Toshinori had come to understand in the year he's known the boy. Not that he minded answering every one of those questions to the best of his ability. He admired his student's eagerness to learn and apply his knowledge wherever he could and couldn't have asked for better.

Two months after Midoriya's internship at Sir Nighteye's agency and Sir Nighteye's untimely death, Toshinori had begun to observe that the boy was getting rather distracted by something. The behavior wasn't severe enough to be a hindrance to their lessons or Midoriya's classwork, but he could tell from the more frequent occurrences of staring out of windows and rereading his Quirk analysis journals. The boy was fixated on something, someone, somewhere.

Toshinori's own questions were answered one evening as they were out alone training in UA's forest environments, and Midoriya gave him the oddest looks.

"All Might," the boy asked, eyes shifting as if he knew he was doing something wrong. "Do you know about the Vongola?"

The name didn't make Toshinori flinch or recoil in fear or shock, but he had to admit he hadn't heard it in years. How Midoriya came to know the name was something he didn't understand. The Vongola were a quiet bunch, most of the time, always covering up their tracks and discreetly turning in their reports to the Public Safety Commission. But then again, this was Midoriya, who owned entire journals dedicated to obsessively collecting information on even lesser known heroes.

"I do," he said stolidly. "But why do you want to know?"

"I'm… just curious."

A silence hung in the air, both teacher and student knowing this was a weak answer. Midoriya bit his lip, and after a while, began to explain, starting from the man he met at Nighteye's funeral, and their subsequent meeting at the cultural festival a week ago. Toshinori listened to every word, nodding every second or so until Midoriya's story came to a stop.

"I see, so they spoke to you," Toshinori noted, and nothing more. The boy tilted his head slightly in response.

"Are you going to tell me to stop asking about them?"

"Not really," he admitted. "Even if I warned you, you'd find some other way, and I'm not sure how safe that would be. It was good judgment of you to come to me rather than go off on your own."

"Are they really that dangerous?" Midoriya asked. "I know they're former mafia, but no one told me anything else."

"Dangerous, you ask?" Toshinori raised an eyebrow at the word, then pondered. "I… really don't know. They have strong Quirks, like any Pro Hero agency, but I suppose what makes them dangerous is that they're just different."

"Because they used to be mafia?"

"There's that," He agreed. "A lot of them used to be on the other side of the law, no matter how honorable they were. They've changed their ways, but it never stops others from worrying they might kill someone, or if they still are doing it in secret."

Midoriya settled back against the tree he was rest against, clearly not yet satisfied with what he's heard.

"So… why did they change?"

In Toshinori's mind came the memory of a young boy, barely an adult, standing at the other end of a table, his eyes burning in resolve. And at that table, he refused to die. To tell the truth, the entire explanation would have taken hours to explain to Midoriya, and surely the boy would sit and hang onto every word. But with the way the sun was setting, he supposed that would have to be another time, but not without giving his student an answer.

"They got tired of it," he said vaguely. "The mafia was its own little world, in a way, but with other villains from outside interfering their work at every turn, they eventually decided that enough was enough and chose a side."

He watched Midoriya considered the words and murmured a few words to himself, then to Toshinori.

"Do you think they made a good choice?"

"Of course," he answered immediately. "If it wasn't, Sir Nighteye wouldn't have put in so much effort giving them Pro Hero status. Most of them are good kids who were unlucky to grow up in a bad place."  
Midoriya nodded, clearly relieved about something, but Toshinori couldn't tell what. Perhaps he should try picking the student's brain for himself, at another time.

"Well, that's enough chat for now," he pushed himself off the log he was seated on. "Let's get back on track."

The lesson continued without any mention of the Vongola again, and Toshinori thought that the boy seemed more pleased he learned just a little more about the group. He was probably going to ask more questions, but their next lesson wouldn't happen until after a few days. After an hour or so, Midoriya was excused to return to the dorms, while Toshinori headed to the staff's own quarters.

Toshinori closed the door behind him and took a sat on the edge of the bed, mattress squeaking under his weight. Now that Midoriya had mentioned the Vongola, something was bothering him, although the source of his worry was more about Sir Nighteye.

His former sidekick was very a secretive man, although Toshinori assumed that was because the man specialized in gathering information, which included protecting his sources and keeping his associates in all walks of life, Vongola included. He had the utmost confidence in the Pro Hero's competence, but he had to wonder about whatever unfinished business he likely had hidden.

The tone of a phone drew him out of his thoughts, and he answered it immediately after seeing it was Tsukauchi, the detective.

"Hey, it's me. Taking a break from late night paperwork?"

"Yes, and no, not really," Toshinori could hear the strain in his voice. With the recent revents surrounding the League of Villains' new boldness in their operations, the poor man was likely running himself ragged. This was on top of helping Toshinori file his paperwork properly.

"So, what are you up to?" He asked, leaning back on his bed. "Normally, you'd just text to meet up in person for a little chat."

Tsukauchi hesitated to speak on the other end of the line, then gave a deep sigh.

"I don't know if this is too much to ask," he began. "But I was wondering if you could attend the next general Pro Hero debriefing at the main station this weekend. Don't worry about the whole clearance thing. The Chief and I got it figured out."

Toshinori stared down at his withered hands.

"I'm retired, Tsukauchi," he said. "I'm not sure if I could contribute anything aside from sitting and listening, and if this is a secret operation, I'd be a security risk."

"Yeah, I know that," the detective acknowledged. "You won't need your Quirk for this. We need you to de-escalate a potential situation in case any disagreements break out among the heroes."

"A situation?"

This isn't the first time Toshinori had been asked for these kinds of matters, although at this point, he was no longer the big man in the room. Wouldn't that be Enji's job now as the new Number One? The fact that the police were personally requesting his presence to mediate was something else.

"Who's going to be there to make you worried?" he asked carefully. Tsukauchi held on for an even longer pause.

"The Vongola. We got a notice from them that their boss will be attending the meeting."

-oOo-

Izuku was a dutiful son, and one of those responsibilities involved calling home every weekend. It was an agreement Inko had made with her son when she finally agreed to let him stay in UA and live in the dorms. The phone call was mostly mundane things like how school was going, and how was the apartment now that he wasn't coming home every night. Of course, Inko would let Izuku be a little selfish and tell her about her about whatever he might have been doing research on. She didn't always understand all of his babbling, but she was glad that regardless of where Izuku was, he was still able to be himself.

Today, she had been noticing that his latest subject of research was causing him some stress. Apparently this month he was absorbed in trying to learn about Italian Pro Heroes and was now a walking encyclopedia on the country's history of heroics as far as she knew. What was proving to be a challenge was a group of heroes who were known only by name but couldn't be found so easily on the Internet. Inko could feel the dedication from the weariness in his voice.

"Honey, is there anything wrong?" She thought to ask. "Perhaps you should take a break…"

Inko heard her son's breath caught short by the question, and then a sigh.

"No, it's fine," his words rung true, but a mother knew better. But a weekly phone conversation wasn't the place to ask about such things. She'd ask him when he was back for break.

"All right, Izuku," she smoothly moved the conversation forward to its end. A boy needed his rest, after all. "I'll see you when break comes, right?"

"Yeah, see you at break, Mom. Love you."

"Love you, too."

Just as the call ended, Inko heard the doorbell ring, and she was quick to answer it. It must be the ramen delivery service that was promoted in the mail. For the past year, it's become a great convenience, especially she had late work, and the menu was a favorite of Izuku's when he was still home. But today was a Sunday night today, and she was being a little indulgent, and made an exception.

Inko opened the door and saw a young girl at the door, all smiles.

"Ms. Inko Midoriya?" The girl asked. "I have your order of ramen!"

"Oh, that's delightful!" Mrs. Midoriya gladly accepted the package with care, and upon glancing on the girl's face, she realized something. "You're the not the girl who usually does deliveries in our area. Are you new?"

"Um, yeah!" The girl flushed in embarrassment. "I lost my way to get here, so I hope the noodles aren't soggy."

"That's quite all right," she reassured the girl and took the package off her hands. "Making mistakes on your first week is natural!"

"Thank you, ma'am," the girl nodded gratefully and presented a rumpled receipt that she had likely put into her pocket. "Here's your receipt."

"Ah, of course," Inko took the paper, too, even though she was going to throw it the next moment. "Thank you."

"Yes, of course!"

She closed the door, and took the package to the kitchen. As the girl had warned, the noodles were starting to swell a bit more than Inko would have liked, but it was still edible nonetheless. At least the broth was still amazing as usual. She had to figure out how to make it in her own kitchen, maybe let Izuku try some when he came home.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I update at my own pace because school is important, so no amount of pushing and shoving to update soon will change my sporadic schedule, but I'm always open to answering questions so long as they're appropriate.


End file.
